The Dark Side of the Moon: Marauders' Style
by Quil Explodes
Summary: 10 one-shots or drabbles centered around Remus and Sirius, as well as the rest of the Marauders. Written for Jillie Bean's Song and Dance Challenge on the HPFC Forum. RL/SB
1. Speak to Me

**Speak to Me**

**_Second Year_**

_"I've been mad for fucking years, absolutely years, been over the edge for yonks, been working me buns off for bands..."_

_"I've always been mad, I know I've been mad, like the most of us...very hard to explain why you're mad, even if you're not mad..."_

"So, Remus." Sirius lounges on one side of him, James on the other. Sirius' arm rests across his shoulders.

"Hey." He says it cautiously, looking from one to the other slowly. He sets down his book. After more than a year with them, he knows that when they sit down like this and don't start talking immediately about some prank other other, something's wrong.

And oh, is something wrong.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Remus?"

Remus freezes. Literally, freezes. And then he thinks that if it wasn't already obvious, there it is.

"No."

"Remus..." Sirius tries to look at his eyes, but he stares at the ground. It really is interesting, he thinks. Why can't Sirius see that? Much more interesting than him and his stupid secret.

"My name is Remus Lupin and I'm crap at Herbology and my mother's ill," he says in a rush. Remus notices that Peter isn't there. "Where's Peter?" He asks, trying, hopelessly, to bring the topic of discussion away from the _something he's not telling them_.

"Still at dinner," James said.

"Your mother's not ill," Sirius says, and it's soft, slightly angry. He stands up abruptly.

"_Sirius_," James hisses, and they exchange a glance, speaking without words in a way only Sirius Black and James Potter can do.

"We're friends, Remus. And you know what friends do? They don't lie to each other. And you know what else they do? They don't ditch their friends on the tiny little fact that they're a--"

"Sirius!"

Sirius is staring down at Remus, and a twelve-year-old Sirius Black staring down at him with a mixture of anger and passion and affection is almost as intimidating as...well, almost anything, except perhaps the moon.

"That they're a what? That I'm a what?" Remus challenges him, and it's almost like James isn't there and Remus feels like Sirius is about to whip out his wand and hex him.

"Nothing, Remus, if you don't want us to know we won't." As if that could change it. As if one word Remus says could erase it right from their memories and thoughts.

"I never--"

"We don't care." Sirius almost spits it out. He sits back down next to Remus, close, as if to prove it. "We don't care what you are, you could be McGonagall in disguise and we'd still be you're friends."

"Well, that'd be a bit of a stretch, even for you," James tells him, the ever-present grin tugging at his lips. Remus thought he looked strange without it--this is much better.

Remus can't hide the smile as Sirius picks up his book.

"Though you could be, considering..._Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two._ At least it's something assigned."

There's a pause and then James says. "Really, Remus, we don't care. I can't think why you'd think we would."

"Oh, yeah, I'll just tell you, first night at Hogwarts, 'Hello, I'm Remus Lupin, I happen to be a werewolf, and you are...?" And Remus realizes that if they hadn't known earlier, if they'd gotten it wrong, now they know. And there's no taking it back.

Sirius takes his hand and shakes is heartily. "Sirius, disowned son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, nice to meet you."

"Where do you go?" James asks, and Sirius drops his hand. They're excited now, at the prospect of something else hidden about Hogwarts for them to find out. They're both staring at him with wide eyes. "Is it a room or something, or do you just run about the grounds, or does Dumbledore--"

"The Shrieking Shack," Remus says, and it's met by heavy silence.

For about two seconds. "_The Shrieking Shack?_ But it's _haunted_."

"But that's not--"

"But you're--"

"But...does it hurt?" Sirius' question is, once again, so un-Sirius-ly sensitive.

Remus shrugs, ignoring the burning grey of his eyes. "A bit."


	2. Breathe

**Breathe  
**

_**Fifth Year**_

_Breathe, breathe in the air.  
Don't be afraid to care.  
Leave but don't leave me.  
Look around and choose your own ground._

_Long you live and high you fly  
And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry  
And all you touch and all you see  
Is all your life will ever be._

Padfoot wakes up slowly. He hears steady breathing, and when he opens his eyes a crack, he sees a stag sprawled across the floor in a way only James can manage. There's a little rat curled up against him, and they're both breathing deeply, conflicting with the other, shallower breaths Padfoot can hear.

He stands up and shakes, still marveling at the way his body is so different from everything he knew before that night. He looks around.

Remus is the only one in human form, and as the weak sunlight streams in onto his golden-brown hair and pale skin, Padfoot steps softly closer to him. His nose skims across his bare chest.

Sirius reaches for that _thing_ in the back of his head that lets Padfoot be Sirius and lets Sirius be Padfoot, and suddenly emotions are so complicated, and Sirius wonders why everyone doesn't just learn how to change themselves into animals, because it's so much easier.

He lets his fingertips brush over Remus's forehead before silently shaking James and Peter awake and slipping out of the shack.

As the three trek towards the castle, James and Peter providing a constant stream of words, Sirius feels something in him...changed.

And it's not because of Padfoot and Moony and Wormtail and Prongs, and it's not because he'd spent the night roaming around the grounds as a huge black dog, and it's not because he doesn't feel tired at all, but strangely exhilarated.

Of course they have to take the most crowded way back, and of course the courtyard and halls and dorms are full of people, and Sirius, for once, doesn't enjoy the girls staring at him and talking to him and giggling at him because he's _Sirius_ _Black_ and he's _half_ _naked_...and it feels like some sort of a betrayal to Remus, to Moony, to reciprocate.

He stumbles up the stairs and collapses into his bed, not sleeping, not thinking, just feeling.

--

"I didn't want to wake you up." It's a sort of apology, and, as James and Peter launch into a full-blown account of the previous night, Sirius tries to look anywhere but Remus.

He's smiling, and it's a rare sight for the day after a full moon, when he's usually _trying_ to sleep and _trying_ to forget.

Sirius feels like nothing is quite real, nothing quite there, except _Remus_, _Remus_ sitting in the bed in the hospital wing, _Remus_ trying to protest Madam Pomfrey's insistent care. His face is the only one in focus--but it's more than that. It's a feeling that goes deeper, deeper than just seeing. It's disconcerting. He can't even pay proper attention to James.

When, what seems like hours later, they can't ignore Madam Pomfrey shooing them out anymore, the three stand up to leave, but Sirius hesitates and waits behind James and Peter, his eyes still lingering on Remus.

"Thanks," he says softly. Sirius opens his mouth. "Thank you, Sirius. Tell them for me, please."

He nods mutely, turns to leave.


	3. On the Run

**On the Run  
**

_**Sixth Year**_

_"Live for today, gone tomorrow, that's me, HaHaHaaaaaa!"_

"Destination, determination, deliberation...all right, say it with me--destination, determination, deliberation." He repeats it more than a thousand times and Remus feels like his head is about to fall off. He stares at his wooden hoop, wondering if his head will land in it squarely. Ha, ha. Square. Circle hoop. Ha.

When his sense of humor manages to drop to the level that is Sirius's, Remus really thinks something is wrong.

"I have plenty of _determination_--the only thing I'm _deliberating_ is _when_ to hex him all the way to London--which, Moony, is my, or rather his, _destination_," Sirius whispers in his ear, leaning over the two-foot gap between their wooden rings. Remus can't stop the small smile from spreading over his lips.

Sirius jerks his head to where James, across the room (McGonagall had thought it best to separate them--though as to why she left Remus and Sirius together, he can't imagine) is muttering under his breath and waving his wand.

"Just wait," he whispers, and Remus glances by chance at Twycross, who had yet to loose his enthusiasm for his three D's, even when the entire sixth year class had, upon seeing him again, muttered the foulest nicknames they could think of, all starting with D, and not bothered to say them at all quietly.

Remus's eyes widen as the instructor begins to float slowly off the ground. Even he doesn't notice until a student in the front row starts sniggering loudly.

Sirius is trying, like many of the other students, to hold in his laughter, but then he can't and it bursts out, and Remus is laughing too, and everyone is, and even Dumbledore, who had happened to look in at that exact moment (Remus thinks James planned it that way), is smiling, even as he waves his wand and Twycross lands gently back on the ground. The hall fills with the disappointed moans of the students, and James turns around to exchange a grin with Sirius as McGonagall calls, "Black, Potter, Lupin, Pettigrew--" and nods her head sternly, as the rest of the sixth years stream away into the entrance hall.

As they approach McGonagall they hear Dumbledore comment to her lightly, "Ah, the joys of modern transportation, Minerva."

He was met by a rather grim look.


	4. Time

**Time  
**

_**Seventh Year and After Hogwarts**_

_Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day  
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.  
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town  
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way._

_Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.  
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.  
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.  
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.  _

"Moony, I'm bored."

Remus sighs in response to the all-too common complaint coming from Sirius, who is spread out across Remus's bed. Lying on top of his feet. Sirius's fingers trace small patterns on his legs.

They've been spending more and more time alone with each other, as James spends more and more time with Lily and Peter spends more and more time with...himself? A girl? They don't really know...and, while neither of them particularly object to the arrangement, Remus finds it sometimes aggravating. Especially when he has to finish the book by tomorrow and Sirius is being exceptionally distracting.

"Mm," he agrees absently, his eyes skimming over the sentences in front of him. Now that it comes down to it, he can't really think why he'd rather stare at these incredibly boring black and white words than look at Sirius.

"Moony? What're you doing once we graduate?"

Remus looks up, focuses his blurry eyes on Sirius. "What? Since when do you have serious conversations?"

"Since I'm _Sirius_, ha, ha."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a reply," Remus says with a slight grin.

"But you're smiling! Ha! See?" Sirius falls back against Remus's pillow, his quiet chuckling becoming a full laugh, his head thrown back, his eyes sparkling.

"Sirius...you are insane."

He sits up. "But I thought you knew that already. Oh, Moony, Moony, Moony, whatever am I going to do with you?" Before Remus can respond, he continues, changing his expression drastically. "But really, what are you doing?"

"I dunno." Remus frowns. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know." And Sirius looks so...so _lost_, so un-Sirius-like, that Remus is overcome by a dramatic sense of _finality_.

"Because...because James is always with Lily and Peter god-knows-where and we never do pranks anymore and I think McGonagall's starting to get used to it, and we can't let that happen, and...James is always with Lily, and all I have is you. Not that that's bad or anything. It's brilliant..." Sirius quickly adds, "but it's just...it's just...it doesn't feel like we're Marauders anymore. It doesn't feel like _Hogwarts_ anymore." Sirius stares at his knees and Remus pats him on the shoulder.

"No, Sirius, we're not...okay, well, I'm sure McGonagall's not _used_ _to_ _it_, but we could...you know. Do something."

"Something prank-like?"

"Something resembling a prank. Not one as much, just...like one. To get McGonagall back on her toes." Remus feels the need to justify this rare suggestion.

Sirius launches himself at Remus. "Really? You are amazing, Moony, you know that, right?"

"It's nice to hear, all the same." He meets Sirius's eyes and they grin in the awkward sort of way that's full of comfort and that Remus wouldn't trade for anything.

--

Each star in the ceiling of the Great Hall is a different color, red or orange or purple or bright yellow or neon green. The clouds are spirals of rainbows, the walls are pink lime green and bright, and Remus feels like he's been sucked into some sort of whirlpool of psychedelia.

There's a group of sixth years giggling in a corner, eyes wide, and a first year is standing alone gazing up at the sky, and Sirius is smiling.

His smile is infectious, and Remus grins and laughs and Sirius' head is thrown back and he's laughing and spinning and twirling around and making Remus dizzy. He grabs his hands, spins him around, lets out a whoop of joy.

"Moony, you are a genius!" He cries, yanking Remus's arms. His lips collide sloppily with the side of Remus's face.

Music is blaring out of nowhere, music that makes Remus feel even more like he's crazy. One of the sixth years shouts and starts singing along loudly when a song comes on. Sirius grabs him again and pulls him out to the middle of the Great Hall, where all the tables have disappeared. He dances and spins and others join them, and they see James and Lily, and James is yelling something to them but they can't hear, something probably along the lines of "why didn't you wait for me but this is fabulous!"

The floor is packed. Remus thinks he might have even seen Dumbledore, but then he disappears and Remus is left with a mind full of Dumbledore with rainbow hair and beard.

He sees Snape with some girl's arms around him but he's gazing at Lily, who's head is resting on James's chest. Sirius shouts something at Snape but no one hears him.

And he's completely in the moment, not worrying about school or flats or wars or Sirius or what's going to happen to all of them. He's not thinking that in a year, half of them could be dead, or in a year, Sirius could very possibly not want anything to do with him.

He drinks in Sirius's laugh like it's butterbeer and he feels drunk, he feels high--on Sirius, on colors, on laughter.

He watches as Sirius barrels through the people, dancing and laughing. And he joins him and he absorbs the happiness and the colors and doesn't think about anything but now, and he feels the night could last forever.

--

Remus sits across from Sirius at the dirty kitchen table that used to be cold and grand. Sirius has his feet up on the table and he's staring at Remus with something like sadness in his expression.

"Remember, Remus?" He asks, and his voice is low and rough.

"Don't," he replies. He can't take Sirius looking at him like that, talking like that, making him remember, making him think.

He laughs, and Remus remembers, unwillingly, that this is not Sirius's laugh. His laugh is light and happy and loud, boisterous and wonderful. This is not. This is cool and cynical and bitter.

" 'Don't,' Remus? What do you mean? Why ever not? It's the only thing that keeps me going, really. You and Harry."

"Sirius..."

"Remember, Moony?" He says again, and he grabs his wand and suddenly it's dark. Remus follows Sirius's eyes to the ceiling, which Sirius has gifted with a poor imitation of the Great Hall so many years ago.

"Sirius, please."

"What?" Sirius demands flatly.

"Sirius."

Sirius's feet drop from the table and he stands up and steps towards Remus. "Moony, I have to remember."

"I can't."

"There's James, there's Lily. Snape, with that girl, and Dumbledore's even dyed his hair for the occasion. It looks rather fetching."

"Sirius." Remus wonders if Sirius has gone insane. But then he looks at him, the charade dropped, looks at him with wide, sad eyes, and Remus sighs and stands. He thought it would be too late. Twelve years in Azkaban, and he only now goes crazy, standing in the kitchen he hates, holding on to Remus like he was falling.

"Moony," Sirius whispers, his fingers trailing over Remus's hair, then locking tightly. He blinks, and he sees gold instead of grey, brown instead of grey. Sirius rests his head against Remus's, feeling his hands around his shoulders, and they sway gently to imaginary music in the grimy kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"Dammit, Remus." They break apart, and they both have similar expressions of frustration and hopelessness.

"It wasn't going to work. Nothing can work." Remus places his hands on top of Sirius's, but he drops them from his hair.

Sirius looks around the room, his eyes landing on the stove, the pots and pans hanging, the table, the floor, then Remus.

"How's Harry?" He asks softly.

"Fine. Good. I don't know," Remus whispers back.

Sirius hesitates for a second. "Maybe I'll--you know, as Padfoot."

He seems to be waiting for Remus to say something, but he just falls back into one of the kitchen chairs. "Please don't, Sirius."

"Why not? I can help him, and Merlin, I got sick of this air when I was _sixteen_, it's no different, I can--"

"No, because he knows, Peter knew, of course, they'll all be looking, Sirius, why can't you understand?" Remus throws up his hands. "You say you need it, but what am I supposed to do when you get caught? I'm not...I'm not--I still need--I still need you, Sirius, how am I supposed to be the last--" He stops suddenly, his teeth coming down hard on his bottom lip. He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes, takes a deep, shaking breath.

Sirius gazes at him, doesn't move.

"You're not completely useless, Sirius, you're not," Remus mutters, and Sirius collapses back into his chair, runs his fingers through his hair, and they're back in the exact same position as they were before, but it seems like ages ago. Sirius can still feel Remus in his arms, smell him, feel the softness of his hair.

Sirius doesn't know how long they sit there for. They're waiting, but he doesn't know what for.

He imagines himself running to Hogwarts, seeing Harry, seeing James. Remus is with him, but he's a wolf, a real wolf, and he can think and feel and the moon is a tiny sliver in the sky.

And they'd run through clean forests, free of Death Eaters and free of curses. They'd run and sometimes they'd walk, human, and they'd meet James, and they'd all go walk right into Hogwarts and see Harry, and tell him they love him, and tell him he's wonderful, and tell him he'll live.

And Peter would be dead, because Sirius would have trusted Remus like he should have and told him, because Sirius was just a little bit insane and just a little bit in love.

And Harry would live with them, with James and Lily, because Sirius would have trusted Remus, and there's only one left, and the rat's too sneaky and Sirius never liked him anyways and he would have trusted Remus.

But Sirius opens his eyes and sees his prison, sees the kitchen, sees Remus. He sees that all his plans, all his fantasies, would never happen, come to nothing. He opens his eyes and they meet Remus's.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I'm sorry, Moony." He apologizes for everything, for not trusting him and for being so rash and for being sent to Azkaban for so long. He apologizes for hurting him and he apologizes for not making it better and for being stuck in this house and not being able to help.

And they both stand up and collide in the middle of the kitchen and Sirius tastes forgiveness on Remus's lips, tastes sorrow and relief and forgiveness, because three words two years ago at the site of so many memories didn't really quite do it.


	5. The Great Gig in the Sky

**The Great Gig in the Sky  
**

_**After Hogwarts**_

_"And I am not frightened of dying, any time will do, I don't mind  
Why should I be frightened of dying?  
There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime."_

James heart is beating so fast he thinks it might implode. He almost laughs. He'd always wanted to die laughing. He and Sirius had talked about it, he remembers, on one late drunk night sixth year. Remus and Peter were asleep, and Sirius was talking, talking about his family, talking about Regulus, talking about death.

_"How d'you wanna die, Prongs?" Sirius asks, his words slurred with firewhiskey._

_"I want to die...I want to die with Lily," he whispers. Sirius scoffs._

_"Lily. Well, me, I'm dying laughing." He is so sure of it, as if he knows his future._

_James nods, thinking that that would be a very good way to go as well. "Laughing with Lily," he says._

James is glad he's not getting his wish, because if it means Lily lives, he'd do anything, die in any way. He hopes to god Sirius gets his wish, because James sure didn't, and he hopes that if Harry lives, he finds the Marauder's Map, somehow, somewhere, and he hopes Dumbledore gives him the Cloak, and he hopes Sirius dies laughing and he hopes and hopes and hopes that Lily and Harry get out of here alive.

And the last things he thinks are _Peter, Peter, Peter_ and _I'm sorry Moony, sorry, so sorry for thinking... _and _God, Sirius, die laughing,_ and _I love you Lily, I love you, I love you._

_-_

Sirius got his wish. He died laughing. He died laughing and looking at Harry and Remus and Remus and Harry.

He'd always thought Bella would be the one to kill him.

-

As the light at the end of the tunnel in his life slowly dims, Peter Pettigrew remembers Harry, Harry telling them not to kill them in that dusty house and Remus telling him he was like James.

He died looking at James's son and as he died he felt the tiniest sliver of remorse as he looked at James and Lily's son.

-

Remus dies last. He never wanted to die last. He never wanted to be the last one. He never wanted to die after James, after Sirius. And now he's dying after Dora.

He supposes, with the great part of him that's selfless, it's good, because he never wanted James or Sirius or Dora to feel the pain he was feeling.

And he hears Harry calling him a coward and he thinks, well, he's no coward now, as he aims his wand at the Death Eater's face and mutters his spell with the last of his strength. He's dying for Harry, and because of that, he's dying for James and Sirius and Lily. He's dying for Harry and Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Fred and George and for Teddy. He's dying so Ron and Hermione can realize they're completely in love and he's dying so there's no more danger so Harry doesn't have to be a hero and leave Ginny. He's dying so they all can have kids and those kids can have the childhood he and Harry and Sirius never got.

And he thinks of Sirius and he looks at Dora and thinks of Teddy and looks at Dora and thinks of Sirius and James and Harry and Dora and Sirius and Dora and Sirius and Sirius and Sirius.


	6. Money

**Money  
**

_**Sixth Year**_

_Money, get back.  
I'm all right Jack keep your hands off of my stack.  
Money, it's a hit.  
Don't give me that do goody good bullshit.  
I'm in the high-fidelity first class traveling set  
And I think I need a Lear jet._

_Money, it's a crime.  
Share it fairly but don't take a slice of my pie.  
Money, so they say  
Is the root of all evil today.  
But if you ask for a raise it's no surprise that they're  
giving none away._

Remus hates going to Gringotts with Sirius. He usually makes some excuse--_I've got to buy a book, missing a quill, some spare parchment, meeting James and the Leaky Cauldron, see you there_--but this time there's nothing. Most of the shops are closed, and Sirius won't let him go anywhere alone, and it's not like Remus wants Sirius to either. So he has no choice, and he follows Sirius slowly to his vault, then to Remus's, and he hates it.

He hates, along with everything else, the money. He hates how he is just, simply, not good enough for him. And as many times as Sirius says _no, no, you're perfect_, and as many times as he kisses him and touches him and whispers in his ear, there's a look, a glance, an answering _no_ when Remus asks if he should come see James with him.

He tries to ignore the piles and nothings in the vaults and concentrate more on Sirius's hand lightly on his back, his wide smile, despite everything.


	7. Us and Them

**Us and Them  
**

_**After Hogwarts**_

_Us, and them  
And after all we're only ordinary men.  
Me, and you.  
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do.  
Forward he cried from the rear  
and the front rank died.  
And the general sat and the lines on the map  
moved from side to side.  
Black and blue  
And who knows which is which and who is who.  
Up and down.  
But in the end it's only round and round.  
Haven't you heard it's a battle of words  
The poster bearer cried.  
Listen son, said the man with the gun  
There's room for you inside._

_Down and out  
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about.  
With, without.  
And who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about?  
Out of the way, it's a busy day  
I've got things on my mind.  
For the want of the price of tea and a slice  
The old man died._

A spell hits his motorcycle. An _Avada Kedavra_ hits his motorcycle and Sirius thinks, _That's it._

Spells shoot out of his wand and he dodges the ones aimed at him like they're Bludgers and he's back on the Quidditch pitch and his wand is a bat and James is shouting and Peter's commentating and Remus, Remus is watching from the stands, probably with his eyes hidden in a book...

And the hood falls back and it's Bella staring at him, Bellatrix staring at him and her wand's right in front of his face and a green light is spilling out and it seems like slow motion and Sirius _almost_ doesn't dodge it, _almost_ doesn't but then Bella's arm is knocked aside and Sirius is tumbling to the ground and Remus is on top of him and they're surrounded, there are a million Death Eaters and Remus turns on the spot and he's holding Sirius's arm in a death grip and Sirius just barely manages to grab the handle of his motorcycle and they're both falling into James's kitchen...

--

And Bella's wand is pointing at him again. Her wand is pointing again and this time it's a red light and Harry's screaming and this time Remus isn't there to knock him to the ground, he's fighting, fighting someone else, and Harry's screaming and Remus is whispering and Bella's red light hits him mid-laugh and he falls into the veil.

--

And now it's Regulus, _Regulus_, his little brother, and they both hesitate, and Bella screams something at Regulus and Regulus mouths something at Sirius and why is it not green light coming out of his wand? He knows Regulus will be punished for this and for a second he wants to do something, _anything_ to stop it because this is his little brother and he's so thin and scared and--

Then it's Bella in front of him and she'd shoved Regulus out of the way. Hatred flares in him and a cousin's okay, a cousin's okay to curse.

He doesn't even know what it is but Bella crumples to the ground and Sirius whirls away and tries to find other Death Eaters that aren't his little brother to hurt.

--

When he hears Regulus is dead he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know whether that's a good thing--_one less Death Eater_--or a bad thing--_your little_ brother, _for Christ's sake!_--and he doesn't know what to do. He just stands there and his hands hang at his sides and they feel stupid, they don't feel like his.

Remus hugs him and whispers to him that's it's okay, it's okay, Regulus tried to leave, he's not bad, not bad--

He's dead, he's _dead_, Sirius responded and he cried and Sirius _never_ cries and he's a little pissed off that he's crying for Regulus, of all people.

_They killed him,_ he whispered to Remus. _They killed him and it's my fault, I should've helped him, should've..._

_There was nothing you could have done, Sirius, _he said._ Nothing. You did all you could._

_--_

He stands in the ruins, with Harry in his arms. He's not crying, and Sirius feels wrong holding him. Babies shouldn't have anything to do with war, he thinks, and he hates this baby in his arms for a second, because it's his fault Lily and James died.

But then, he's Lily, and he's James, and he's altogether anything that anyone could have hoped for and more.

He looks up through the destroyed roof at the stars, stands in the ruins silently, and lets tears fall for the second time. He wonders when will be the next time. He figures Remus would be the only other person alive he'd cry for--but if he thinks of Remus dead he feels like nothing exists, so he holds on to the baby and he holds on to Remus as he waits.

_--_

_Dead._

_Nothing, nothing, nothing you could have done._

Kreacher's mumbling about_ filthy Mudbloods, blood traitors, traitors, all of them, filthy Gryffindor, and poor Master Regulus, dead, killed--_

Sirius kicks him out of his room and ignores the tiny flicker of guilt he feels.

--

He watches Remus fight and he watches Harry fight and he fights with Bellatrix. He's glad Regulus isn't here. He knows that if he aimed his wand at Harry or Remus he would kill him before he could start on the _Avada_...and Sirius didn't want to kill his little brother. He'd do it for Harry and he'd do it for Remus but he wanted nothing less than to kill his little brother.

He almost welcomes Bella's curse.


	8. Any Colour You Like

Any Colour You Like

_Sixth Year_

_"You can 'ave 'em, ten bob to you, love. Any colour you like, they're all blue."_

"Ah, choices, choices," Sirius sighs. His hand rests on top of Remus's on the cushion and Remus fidgets. James raises his eyebrows.

"What do you mean, choices?" He asks roughly. "There are no choices."

Sirius's smile fades slightly. "What?"

"Potions, Transfiguration, DADA, I mean, what else? Charms, maybe. No History of Magic, like that's going to help us."

"What are you talking about, Prongs?" Sirius asks.

"We're in a war, Sirius. Once we get out of Hogwarts we're in a war and we don't have choices, and we don't have lives, we might not like...and we don't..." Remus remembers that James had heard a few days ago of the death of some second cousins or something by Death Eaters. Not that he was particularly close to them, but it was a hit all the same.

"We're--"

"We're in a war and we'll all have to fight, whether or not you like it."

"James--"

Sirius sighs. "Right, then." He sets down the pamphlets he was holding. "Guess there'll be no Muggle banking for me! Mum'll be happy."

Remus looks at him with an expression Sirius doesn't like at all. "Sirius..."

"No, I mean, it's such a loss. Haven't you always wanted to...'Train Security Trolls'?" He reads off the nearest paper. "I know You-Know-Who's out there and I know there are Death Eaters and I know there's a war and I know people will die, but don't you remember how to joke anymore, Prongs?"

* * *

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	9. Brain Damage

**Brain Damage  
**

**_Fifth Year_**

 _And if the dam breaks open many years too soon  
And if there is no room upon the hill  
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too  
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.    
_

_The lunatic is in my head.  
The lunatic is in my head  
You raise the blade, you make the change  
You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane.  
You lock the door  
And throw away the key  
There's someone in my head but it's not me.  
_

_And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear  
You shout and no one seems to hear.  
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes  
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon._

Sirius is Padfoot, and Padfoot is running. He's almost playing tag with the wolf and the stag. Peter's on Prongs's back, crouching low as the wind whips over his short fur.

Padfoot shakes his head, letting out a bark that sounds like a laugh. Moony's running faster than any of them and Padfoot catches up with him and they tumble on the grass, biting and clawing, but not too sharp, never too rough. Sirius feels a bit of Remus in the wolf, and, before he can run off again, he licks him, and Moony growls softly.

They run and the dog and stag and rat take account of the passages, secrets, and paths that Hogwarts hides, keeping track of them in their minds, maps being drawn and spells being cast in all of their heads, except the wolf, who's gone, who's lost, except for that little part of Remus hidden deep inside.

When he's human, he says he doesn't remember anything, and he says it makes him feel insane, like some sort of alcoholic, maybe, or just plain insane. Because his body changes, yes, and so does Sirius's and James's and Peter's, but Remus's mind changes too, right along with his body--turns into a predator, an animal. Insane.

Moony's always liked Padfoot the best, maybe because he's a dog, maybe because he's Sirius, but whatever it is, they run ahead together as the full moon hangs like a lantern over the grounds of Hogwarts. They run together and Remus feels a little less crazy and Moony feels a little more like maybe he's on the right path, maybe Sirius is rearranging him, leading him, showing him, just a little, just his mind, just Moony's mind.

--

Remus Lupin swallows the potion, cursing Snape, thanking Snape. It tastes so bad, worse than all the alcohol Sirius half-forced him to drink when they were at Hogwarts, worse than the stuff he welcomed because he could forget about the full moons and drown in Sirius, when they were at Hogwarts. When they were at Hogwarts as _students_. He remembers because every transformation he remembers, those cursed three-nights-a-month when he can't forget. When he can't pretend to forget.

Remus wonders whether Harry's found out about the kitchens, or rather, about all the alcohol having access to the kitchens can get you. James and Sirius were already sneaking down there at thirteen.

Of course, things got much more interesting later, as they got more and more drunk and Sirius was Sirius--pure, unadulterated Sirius.

Remus pushes away the memories, because thinking of Sirius when he could be anywhere, when he could be in London or...America, or...anywhere, but was most likely so near he could almost feel him there, that was stupid. He could be. He got into the castle once, he could do it again.

Remus, who is almost Moony, whips around, and Remus misses Sirius with the same aching he feels every full moon, every month, every day, every hour, every second.

Remus feels slightly insane, because at this moment, more than any other, he is sure that Sirius is innocent. Because Peter isn't dead--the Marauder's Map never lies. And if Peter isn't dead, that means Sirius didn't kill him.

Remus puts the pieces together and it forms one puzzle, one perfect puzzle, with no missing pieces. Sirius, join Voldemort? To anyone who had known him, the very idea was absurd. And, with a certainty he hasn't felt in a very long time, Remus feels the need to run around on the grounds and find him, find Sirius, find Padfoot.

But he's already taken the potion, and with the last, tiny, sane part of him he's glad, because he couldn't bite innocent students, what was he thinking? There's no big black dog to stop him, no stag or even no little rat that looking at then elicited some sort of memory, that thinking about now brings feelings so intense with hatred he could break the bonds of the Wolfsbane and run around the castle and sniff out that traitorous little rat.

And he changes, and it hurts, more than usual, because he's thinking of Sirius, and it always hurts more when he's thinking of Sirius.


	10. Eclipse

**Eclipse  
**

_All that you touch  
And all that you see  
All that you taste  
All you feel  
And all that you love  
And all that you hate  
All you distrust  
All you save_

And everything under the sun is in tune  
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon    
"There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it's all dark."

Everything's the same in the end. Whether you die betrayed by a friend, protecting those you love, or whether you die by the hand of a cousin, or your own hand, given to you by a master with twisted ways, whether you die fighting or in peace, whether you die willingly or not, it's all the same.

What's not the same is what you do before you die, but here it doesn't matter.

Sirius and Regulus, James and Lily, Remus and Peter and even Dumbledore watching over everyone, smiling and humming, wandering around and wondering.

Sirius doesn't have to choose anymore, and he can be with Remus and speak to Regulus and prank with James and Fred Weasley.

No one knows where Peter is, but it's a good thing, in the end. Bodies may be left behind, but emotions aren't, prejudices aren't, memories aren't.

Sirius doesn't have to lie and doesn't have to choose and doesn't have to avoid his parents because they're not there, he hasn't seen them.

He listens to Regulus apologizing and he listens to his story. He listens to Remus tell him about Harry.

It's like everything's together, everything's apart. Everything's floating and sinking, flying and walking, all at once. James beams. Lily laughs. They hold on to each other's hands with some sort of desperation, carried through from death, from life, and they never let go.

Sirius tackles Remus to the ground, hair falling into each others' eyes, runs his fingers hungrily through Remus's golden-brown--not gray--hair, down his back. His lips won't let go, can't let go, and Remus breathes in Sirius's breath and thinks he feels something wet fall onto his cheeks, but Sirius is smiling. He's laughing and kissing him and crying all at once, and nothing has quite the same sharpness as it did when they used to kiss in Sirius's bed, in their dorm, at Hogwarts, but it's all the better for that, all the better for the foggy sort of touching, because they can't get enough of it.

And everything sort of fades away, and there are no regrets, and there is nothing to think anymore except what they want to, what they can, what they will.


End file.
